


The Sweetest Submission

by 221b_hound



Series: Guitar Man [92]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Kink Negotiation, Light Bondage, Tickling, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 14:03:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1651268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221b_hound/pseuds/221b_hound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary gets a bit enthusiastic again and when she pins John down by his wrists, the moment gets awkward. John actually used to like that sort of thing, but bad experiences, a shoulder wound and PTSD means he's not so keen these days.  Mary suggests he tries tying her up. That has other problems - but they'll find what works for them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sweetest Submission

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Florence and the Machine's Bedroom Hymns.

John was trying to tickle Mary as she sat across his legs. Mary was trying to stop him, while at the same time tickling _him_. They were both simultaneously trying not to giggle too loudly because it was midnight and Sherlock was downstairs conducting experiments on the effect of various cleaning products on rabbit fur, fake fur and silk.

Sherlock had barely even acknowledged their arrival, and he could hardly have missed it, because there’d been a good two minutes snoggage in the hall before John, with Mary playfully tweaking a nipple through his shirt and making him squirm and retreat, had pushed open the living room door.

“Oh. Hi, Sherlock.”

Sherlock raised a hand absent-mindedly and went back to work. Mary and John exchanged a glance, held hands, and ran upstairs, completely missing the small smile Sherlock gave to a slide of rex hair and ammonia.

Now here they were, semi-naked, dressed only in their underwear, wrestling on his bed for supremacy in the tickle war which John was currently winning, both because he was making Mary wriggle and squirm on his lap and, well, because he was making Mary wriggle and squirm on his lap.

“No, no, no!” Mary giggled breathlessly, pressing and rolling her hips down on him far more than was necessary. Then she seized his wrists in her hands and tumbled them over, John landing on his back with a shout of surprise, even though obviously he’d let her win that one.

She bent to kiss him, shoving his hands high over his head. With the advantage of the position she held him tight there, and sealed her mouth over his, licking at his tongue with hers for a moment before she realised that he was no longer kissing her back.

Instead, he had frozen and seemed to be making a great effort to breathe evenly.

Mary sat straight up as though stung, releasing his wrists and scooting back from his hip to sit over his thighs instead. “Oh, John, god, I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

She started to swing her leg up, to move to the other side of the bed, when he took her hand.

“Stay. It’s all right.”

“It’s not! I’m always getting carried away and acting before I think and I…”

“Usually turns out all right.” John smiled at her, all warmth and no tension, “It’s fine, sweetheart. It just took me by surprise.”

“I’m sorry, beautiful.”

“Gissa kiss, then.” He puckered up with comic exaggeration, so she leaned down and with an equally exaggerated big-lipped pout planted a loud kiss on his lips. He reached up then and held her chin; swiped his thumb over her lower lip.

“Your impulses with me are generally accurate,” he said, his blue eyes looking deep into her brown ones. “Actually, I used to like that sort of thing. Played around with it a bit with a girl at university. Nothing much. She tied me up with scarves, mostly. She was into spanking though. Not my cup of tea.”

“Oh.” Mary stroked his cheek with her fingertips, then her touch trailed up to the scar under his hairline. No, John would not necessarily be into pain play, with his family history.

John captured her hand and kissed her fingers. “I didn’t meet anyone else who wanted to… you know, play with just a few simple knots without all the discipline side of it. One girl tied me up once, and then took off. She was under the impression I’d find it sexy to have to _wait_. She left me there for four hours and I couldn’t get out when the sirens went off. I was lucky my mate Bill came looking and cut me loose again. He laughed for bloody days, the bastard. So that whole incident didn’t impress me much.” He gave her a stern look at her strangled laugh. “Mary. No. Not funny. War zone, remember? Left alone naked and tied up with an attack underway?”

Mary sobered instantly, horrified. “Oh, John.”

Then he pulled a face. “Well, a little bit funny I suppose. It’s cold out in the mountains at night, and she left the window open. Nearly froze my bollocks off.”

“ _John_.” Then she tapped him on the nose. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Thank you, yes. Well, after that, I went off the whole idea, and then I had the bung shoulder and it took forever to get the range of motion back. And there was the PTSD and it didn’t feel safe and…. I haven’t. I haven’t thought about it for a long time.”

“Did I hurt your shoulder? Oh, god, did I make you feel…?”

“Not at all, baby. Really. You just took me by surprise.” He grimaced. “My therapist used to write things in my file like _has trust issues_ , you know.” Once more, Mary started to draw away to give him space, and once more he grasped her fingers to kiss them. “I seem to have dealt with most of them.”

John slid his hands up her arms, around her shoulders, and drew her down into a long kiss, and she folded tenderly against him.

“You could…” she began as he moved to smudge his lips along her jaw, “If you like that sort of thing. You could. Tie _me_ up.”

He paused to look at her. “Would you like that?” Then resumed the nuzzle-kissing Mary so loved.

“It would be fun to try. Just… not too tight.”

“Not too tight,” he agreed, grinning.

John, lacking appropriate scarves, fetched two of his least favourite ties from his drawer and tied them into two loops on the bedhead. By simply doing that, Mary could see he was becoming aroused, cock slowly thickening and making an appealing bulge in his pants. They divested themselves of the last of their clothing and his arousal became more obvious.

“This is _very_ loose,” Mary noted, lying down on the bed and inserting her hands into the long loops of cloth.

“We’ll try it like this first,” said John, “You can get right out of them if you need to without waiting for me.”

“Worried about sirens?” She grinned impishly.

“I live with Sherlock Holmes. It’s always a pretty high probability.”

“You’re a smart fellow.”

“Mmm.”

John kneeled between her legs and rubbed his hand along her thighs, over her hips and ribs, over her breasts to her throat. Her arms were stretched over her head, and his sturdy hands swept carefully up them, against her armpits and biceps and forearms to her hands. She grasped his fingers in hers as he kissed her, then as his hands travelled back down her body, she twisted her wrists in the loops and grasped the cloth to anchor herself more firmly.

John’s mouth kissed a line down her sternum and breasts to her belly, and his hands slid their warm way around her hips to her arse, lifted her off the bed a fraction.

She tugged at the loose restraints, her instinct being to reach for him. It would be so easy to free herself, but she didn’t. Tension crept down her arms and into her body then her legs, but it was fine. A bit exciting. This was John, here, and she trusted him, too. She could feel his erection pressing against her leg, and his mouth on her thighs was wonderful.

In the restraints, her hands clenched and she made herself relax. When she relaxed it was a lot more fun. John was so gentle. So…

“No. Sorry. No. No.” John pulled away, hands leaving her, mouth leaving her, cock wilting against her skin.

“It’s okay baby.”

“No. I’m sorry, Mary. I…  I don’t like doing this to you.” He stretched along her body to enclose her fingers in his hand, to encourage her to unclench them and tug her hands out of the loops again, and she helped him. His unhappy frown as he helped her free made her love him just that little bit more.

“It’s all right,” she said, gathering him close to her, arms around his shoulders, peppering his face with kisses.

His frown became fierce. “No. It’s not right. I like… I want you free. To choose. I…” The next head shake was more one of confusion as he sat back on his heels. “I don’t think I’m saying this well, but it feels _wrong_. It’s not doing anything for me. It’s doing the opposite of that. I’m sorry if you want to but…” He grimaced now, half gesturing towards his now flaccid penis. “I can’t.”

Freed, Mary sat up onto her own knees and leaned over to wrap him in her arms. “I don’t want to that much, really,” she confessed. “I trust you, and if you wanted to it’d be fine, but it’s not really a kink of mine.”

She rested her forehead to his, kissed his nose, and the tension began to bleed out of him. He shifted again, crooking his legs in front of him to sit on the bed, and Mary took the opportunity to follow him, to sit in his lap, legs either side of his hips, so they could cuddle and kiss.

“You like the idea, though,” she said after a while, “ _You_ being tied up, I mean.”

“Not for a long time, but… with you. Yeah. I could do it with you.”

“You don’t feel trapped?”

“I could get out of any knot you made.”

"I wouldn’t make a knot. I’d do what we just did there. You could hold onto the loops and slip your hands out any time you liked. Unless you wanted something tighter. But… you were excited setting it up, until it was my hands that went into it.”

John blew out a slow breath. “It looked… safe isn’t the word. But. Anchored. That’s what I used to like about it. Just… giving it all up for a little while. It used to make me feel anchored for a while.”

“Then let me anchor you, beautiful. If that’s what you’d like to try. If you’re sure.”

He blinked at her, swallowed, then nodded.

They kissed some more, slow and sweet, then deeper. John rose up, his arms around her back, and lowered her to the mattress again, then they moved their tangled bodies until John was underneath Mary.  She licked and nuzzled trails over his chest and stomach, down his legs and then, as she spit-slicked a finger to rub against his hole as she kissed the crown of his cock, he reached up to the headboard. She was suckling the end of his cock, and he was looking at her, as he found the loops and worked his hands into them and gripped the extra give in the material.

“I can get out if I need to,” said John with a sultry grin, “So come on then, Mary. Show me what you want.”

So Mary sat between his thighs, keeping his legs spread, and her hands roamed all over his body, stroking and teasing and tweaking every sensitive part of him, following intensity with gentle kisses that undid him almost as much. His hands strained against the ties holding him to the bed, but if anything he was doing it deliberately to encourage his own response, because he got harder, more breathless.

John willingly submitted to Mary, who took him close to the edge then backed away again two times; three, with her fingers and mouth.

And then she straddled his hips and lowered herself onto his straining cock and ground her hips down while he pushed up to meet her.

“Beautiful,” she murmured, leaning across his body so her breasts hung heavy. He opened his mouth as she brought a nipple to his lips and he teased her as she rode him, one breast then the other. Then she leaned further upward, and took his willingly trapped hands in hers. He turned them in the restrains so their fingers were entwined.

“Oh, that’s it,” Mary gasped, moving fast then slow, to see the waves of desire and pleasure wash over his face, “You’re so beautiful like this. I’ve got you. Oh, John, John, I’ve got you. I’ve got you…”

He heels dug into the bed as he thrust up into her downward grind and he came first, with a cry he could not at all mute, his body flexing with the intensity of it.

And then Mary came, hard, waves of pleasure shuddering through her as she rode him, shifting to feel him deep inside her, _so good, so good, so fucking good…_

She collapsed over him, panting with exertion, and he lay under her, grinning and gasping for air like a he’d just won the best race ever.

“Lord, that’s hot,” said Mary, kissing at his skin while trying to catch her breath.

She felt him twist his hands in the ties and then next thing his lovely hands were smoothing warm over the skin of her arms, her back, her shoulders. His fingers were threading through her hair.

“Yes,” he agreed, “God, you are. Yes. That was fantastic. You’re fantastic.”

Mary snuggled against him.

“Next time,” he suggested, “You could tie my feet too.”

“I like your feet.”

“My feet.”

“Mmm.”

“Is that a kink of yours?”

“That and the kilt,” she admitted.

“You’ll have to show me what to do,” said John sleepily.

Mary agreed with a murmur as she, too, drifted into contented post-coital slumber in his arms.


End file.
